Is it selfish that in this moment, I’d let her?
The moment stretches and bends, on and on until I start to feel like my next breath isn’t impossible. I just wish I wasn’t likethis, that the most simple affection was enough to bring all my flaws rushing towards the light. Normal came and went a long time ago, but is it too much to ask to weather my own storms by myself? Will I always need someone else to anchor me? Being too weak to cope with my burdens makes my stomach churn.
Blakely’s fingers find their way to my hair, smoothing down the mess I’ve made of it with such tenderness that it aches. “You have the words, sweet pea. They may not be the ones that other people would use, but they’re still yours. I’m so fucking sorry that you feel like they’re not enough.”
“I just want them to be good enough for him,” I murmur into her sweater.
That’s the crux of it, isn’t it? How can I move forward, have all my fragile dreams come true when I’m so far out of my league here? He had a normal family that taught him how to talk about his feelings and how to get through the hard things. I get completely paralyzed by what would be a pothole to him. “Maybe he’d be better off without me.”
It’s only a whispered thought and shouldn’t have been able to be heard through my ragged breathing, but it’s enough for Blakely to rear back like I’d slapped her. The knee-jerk apology is frozen in my throat because I have no idea if the idea appeals to her or she’s upset with me.
The way she considers her words so carefully scares me, it’s hard to get a read on if there’s something lying underneath what she actually says. “You didn’t know Chase very well before he started coming out of his shell, so maybe I can give you some insight that will help you. I’m not going to tell you what you should do, because no one knows if you’re capable of this except for you. After the past month of your life, it’s safe to say that whatever you decide about your future is valid. All that to say, though, when Chase and I met freshman year, he was impossible to know. I probably couldn’t have told you more than threethings about him for easily the first year we were friends. The only reason I knew that we were friends is because Brady told me that what I was doing was working, and I just trusted the process. When I say he was shy, that doesn’t cover even a quarter of how painful it was for him to come out of his cave of solitude. And when he did, it was a gradual process.
“Eventually he got to the point that he was good with me and your brother, but anyone else was a hard no. Even if he went home with a guy, he’d forget this poor person’s name before he even walked out the door. He did not enjoy being around anyone except for us. And that’s how it’s been until you. He’s gotten a little better at faking it, but a relationship was never on the table for him. But he was crazy about you, even at the start, honey. He can handle complicated if it’s you. In fact, I’m sure he’s thriving in the thick of it because he’s excellent under pressure. If you chose to go a different path in life than one that includes him, don’t do it because you think he’s better off. Do it because you’d be better off. But Chase is a big boy, he’ll tell you if he can’t handle it. If he hasn’t said that, it’s pretty safe to assume he’s okay.”
I groan, frustrated with myself. “But it shouldn’t be this hard for him. We don’t get date nights and all the cute stuff in the movies. I lived in his house because I thought my brother was a homophobe, and we connected between gaps of recurring panic attacks. Now my abusive, stalker ex-boyfriend is circling around our lives like a buzzard with roadkill, and I don’t know how to talk to him about trying to end my life because I don’t think I even wanted to, but what other choice is there after staring down the barrel of a gun?”
It’s when she raises her eyebrows and her cheeks pale that I realize what I said. I’m just so fucking tired of lying. All I wanted was to keep Aaron away from the people I loved and it landed me here. I don’t know how to move on from my attempt, but I don’tknow how to keep living when I know he’s out there either. At that moment, I meant it. It wasn’t something I did impulsively. Aaron would never be fully comfortable leaving me alone, and I knew there wouldn’t be a lot of opportunities to do it peacefully. You see it on the internet all the time—think to yourself “oh, how sad, shame they didn’t leave before things got so bad.” Then you move on with your life.
I couldn’t be that. I couldn’t let it end like that. I did leave. I left, didn’t look back and tried like hell to heal the scars that remained so they didn’t hurt my future. I’m fully aware that not everyone can leave—just look at my mother. Religion keeps her chained to her marriage rather than what I went through, but it’s all the same in the end, isn’t it? You stay, even when you know you shouldn’t. You stay because if you don’t, someone that you tried to love through abusing you—like it's something they need support for—shows up and points a gun at your head.
He’s just going through a really difficult time at work, he didn’t mean it when he shoved my head and cracked the drywall.He even cried when he apologized, that’s how I knew it was sincere.
Then you’ve got to pick who dies at his hands. You or innocent people who weren’t so naïve that they could be fooled by a lion in sheep’s clothing. You know he’s capable of it.
I picked the third option. Me at my own hands. I got to just go to sleep and ruin his plans for me. Is that really so fucking terrible of me?
Except it didn’t work, which I’m not sure how to feel about because now everyone is right in the middle of this with me and they didn’t ask for this. I brought this into their lives.
“You made an impossible choice, Easton. I’m really fucking glad that you’re still here. So glad that I can’t even properly express it to you. How about we try to get rid of this dickhead and then see how things go from there?”
I nod; there’s really nothing else I can do. Although, I’d be lying if I said I believe that he can be gotten rid of so easily. I know him better than that.
Blakely reaches for the built-in bookshelf above my head, snags something, and passes it to me. “What is this?”
“A fluffy queer romantasy book. One of my favorites, actually. Read it or don’t, honestly. But everything is so serious right now, I thought you might enjoy a mental break kind of book.”
So that’s how I spend the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening, absolutely demolishing my way through the pages with extra soft pillows and blankets. It’s the first time since before Aaron came back that I’ve been able to truly get out of my own head, and I’m grateful for every second of it.
CHAPTER 8
CHASE
Honestly, my bad for agreeing to work out with the professional athlete, but this still qualifies as an assassination attempt. I’m sure of it. There is no reason under the sun that any one human needs to lift weights like this, and I can only hope that I won’t be alive long enough to see how sore this makes me tomorrow.
“Come on. It won’t be that bad. I’ll take it easy on you,” I mutter bitterly under my breath. Lies. All of it.
“What was that?” Landon asks with a knowing laugh.
With a groan, I push up from the floor. “Nothing, man. Just wondering what’s next.”
“I was going to go for a short cool down run, but you don’t have to.”
In for a penny, in for a pound. “Nah, I’m good. Let’s do it.”
Let the record reflect, Landon is not the only liar in this basement gym. By the time we actually finish, I have what I believe to be a lovely soundtrack I’d like played at my funeral. Obviously, Brady will have to speak. He’ll hate it but he’s the comic relief to offset my parent’s despair, so it’s important. I should probably tell Logan to make sure my mom doesn’t use that picture of me eating sidewalk chalk for the photomontage.
“Hey, handsome,” Blakely chirps, lifting her head to Landon for a kiss. “How was the workout, you two?”
